


To Steal a Bed

by cornelius



Series: Rexford Chronicles [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Rimming, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-05 23:22:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5394032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cornelius/pseuds/cornelius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Under King Michael's reign, Rexford is a city divided between the rich and everyone else, where magic is both a sought-after commodity and everyday part of life. But something dark is growing in the city and not even Rexford's great fabled walls can't defend against it.</p><p>Dean wasn't worried about any of that. His plan was to get in, steal something, and get out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Steal a Bed

**Author's Note:**

> **Edited 6/19** : small changes to fit with expanded world in later parts.

Dean straightened his borrowed robe nervously as he walked down a long hallway to a great door. He was covered from head to toe, but four sets of eyes trained on him left him feeling exposed in the light, golden fabric. 

He tried not to think of the guards as they approached the end of the hallway, his eyes instead following the intricate carvings on the door. Dean recognized it as the work of a long dead master craftsman, his signature swirls a mosaic of colorful rock and precious metals. It told a story, one of the myths Dean’d learned as a child, but by the time he found the beginning, one guard opened the door and Dean was pushed inside. 

As he walked into the room, Dean passed the door and the scene of a great, otherworldly winged man pulling the hero from the underworld. It was the scene he remembered most vividly from his mother’s tellings of the myth when he was a child, and the sight of it gave him momentary pause. He shook it off as the nearest guard shot him a pointed look.

Barely after Dean’d stepped into the room, the door shut loudly behind him. He waited a handful of breaths to see if anyone would join him, then threw off his hood and peered around. Two doors led to other rooms, and a giant window, partially hidden behind dark curtains, took up one whole wall—if he had to get out in a hurry, he didn’t like his odds. The doors probably led to a bedroom and a bathroom, but Dean didn’t want to count on those. Likely, he would have to jump out of the third-story window if he was caught. It wasn’t ideal, but he’d survived falls from much higher up.

For such a large chamber with an opulent door, the simple and plain furniture was probably a little too small for the space. That didn’t bode well if he had to fight his way out of the room—nothing for potential pursuers to trip over. The only potentially useful piece was a large table, its legs carved with intricate scrollwork. Dean could see small inlays on the tabletop, though most of the fine work was covered in maps and books. However, the table looked too solid and heavy for Dean to easily flip over, and he dismissed it as useless to him as the other pieces of furniture in the room. 

A rug spanned the length of the room, from the writing desk and floor-to-ceiling bookcases on the left to a full suit of armor, equipped with all the latest technology and covered with shielding and warding runes. The rug had probably once been as fine as the table, but it was well worn in some spots and discolored in others, obscuring the woven pattern. Still, in a pinch, it would make a decent tripping hazard. Or even serve as protection from the jagged glass edges if he did have to go out the window.

Dean glanced over at one spartan chair and considered sitting down to wait, when the nearest interior door opened and a man entered. He was as tall as Dean, and likely just as broad, but his clothing—too long pants and an untucked and billowy linen shirt—made it hard to accurately gauge the man’s build. He also probably had at least a decade on Dean, but again his clothes made it hard to tell.

He squinted at Dean. “You’re not Kevin Tran.”

“No, I’m Dean,” he said and clumsily made the appropriate bow and hand signals he’d learned that morning, “They had to make a switch. I’m Kevin’s replacement.”

The man looked at Dean skeptically, but gestured for Dean to follow him into the room he’d just come from.

This new room was very different from the first, though it shared the haphazard air. Ancient, and likely very valuable furniture was draped with odd bits of clothing which the man grabbed with an embarrassed look over his shoulder. Others held up more carefully balanced piles of books and scrolls, but the man didn’t worry about those. Like the main room, the arrangement of furniture hinged on one large piece, an enormous canopy bed with velvet curtains that dominated the room. 

The man took Dean’s hand and led him to the edge of the bed before reaching for Dean’s robes with shaking hands.

“First time?” Dean asked with a chuckle before helping pull the robe over his head. Dean was completely naked and the man looked at him with awe. Dean preened under the attention, glad that he’d picked today for a shave and a haircut. 

“Yes,” he said breathily before clearing his throat and speaking again, “Yes, it was my cousin's idea to send for someone from the Temple.”

Dean winced. “Yeah, about that …” 

Dean hadn’t planned on letting on that he wasn’t from the Temple, but a guilt borne of years of experience settled like a weight in his gut. Dean couldn’t have sex with this man under false pretenses. 

The man’s eyes opened wide in surprise, and Dean was momentarily caught off guard by how blue they were. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Dean started, and then sat down on the bed pulling the robe over his waist, “I ran into Kevin in a tavern on Beacon Street. He was scared shitless by this whole thing, despite all the years of training or whatever kinky shit they get up to in the Temple.”

“So you took his place,” Castiel asked, though it didn’t sound like much of a question, as he sat down next to Dean on the bed.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Dean sighed, and ran a hand through his recently-trimmed hair. The man looked at him without guile and, despite all the rational reasons telling Dean to lie, Dean felt like he could trust this man. Maybe it was the fact that palace guards hadn’t already been called to escort Dean out, or the fact that the man’s hair was so wild it couldn’t be the product of artifice. Either way, the truth tumbled out of Dean’s mouth unexpectedly.

“I couldn’t let a terrified sixteen year old kid come up here to Goddess knows what. You know, most people from the palace who send for someone from the Temple aren’t hoping to get their brother laid.”

The man made a face of disgust, but nodded in agreement. Dean might not live in the palace, but the rampant abuses of power and corruption of the Temple was fairly common knowledge.

“And,” Dean said with a sigh, “I’ve known kids like him who needed a way out. I know some people who take in all sorts of strays, so I gave him an opportunity.”

“So, you’re just that noble?” The man raised an eyebrow and Dean shrugged before smiling lasciviously. 

“I like sex.” 

The man rolled his eyes, and Dean chuckled. It wasn’t _quite_ the whole truth, but the man didn’t need to know that Dean was planning on … _relieving_ him of a few of his valuables on the way out. And maybe whatever he could grab just lying around the palace. Dean mentally recalled a few runes that could make him quite unnoticeable when he needed to be.

A silence fell between them and the man studied Dean closely, his gaze oddly unwavering. Dean met the man’s eyes and looked back as long as he could, but eventually he just felt weird staring at the guy.

“So,” Dean said, breaking the silence and finally getting the man to blink, “Kevin didn’t tell me who I had the pleasure of seeing today.”

“Oh sorry,” the man said without sounding sorry at all, “I just assumed you knew.”

Dean shook his head and the man spoke again, “I’m Castiel.”

It was Dean’s turn to look shocked. Castiel?! “ _Prince_ Castiel?”

“Do you know a lot of _Castiel_ s?” Castiel said dryly.

Dean looked around the room again, but there wasn’t anything to suggest he was in royal chambers—no insignias, no golden goblets, no fine silks. Dean had just assumed this man was minor nobility given old and unused rooms during his stay. Still, Dean could hear his mentor chiding him in his head. 

_There ya go again, Dean. Barging in without gettin’ all the information, ya idjit._

Dean was so deeply lost in thought that he barely registered the feeling of lips on his jaw. 

“You still wanna—” Dean’s question was cut off by a mouth covering his. Castiel surprised him with the fervor of his kiss.

“I planned on having sex today,” he said and the image of a calendar marked with SEX on today’s date popped into Dean’s head. He nearly chuckled but kept a straight face as Castiel continued seriously, “You’re not who I expected, but I think this is better. Kevin didn’t have a choice. I’m not sure I could have…” Castiel trailed off but Dean understood the conflict in his eyes. Acolytes in the Temple were raised for _this_ , groomed for this, but the Temple made choices, not them. Or really, whoever had the most money and could bribe the Temple. Acolytes might’ve once only been the sexual manifestation of the Goddess but more and more often these days, their primary function was as expensive prostitutes.

“Unless you don’t want to,” Castiel offered and Dean weighed his options. Castiel was giving him a chance to go, and if Dean took it, he was sure he could still do what he needed to do on his way out. However, Castiel was warm and willing, and _incredibly attractive_ , and Dean’d been in a bit of a dry spell. 

Dean kissed Castiel back in answer, and that seemed to stoke a fire in Castiel. He held Dean’s face in his hands and kissed Dean hungrily. It was all Dean could do just to hold on.

Castiel broke the kiss abruptly and stood up, beckoning Dean to do the same. Still in a daze from the kiss, Dean stood up, his legs shaking, and the robe fell to the floor forgotten. 

“Stand still,” Castiel commanded and Dean moved into a more comfortable and solid stance, his feet shoulder width apart. His hands were already on their way to clasp behind his back in a familiar motion before he realized what he was doing. He repressed the age-old instinct and dropped his hands to hang at his sides. 

If Castiel noticed any of this, he didn’t let on. Instead, he just ran his large hands over Dean’s pectorals up to his shoulders and down his arms before lightly scratching his nails over Dean’s skin as he drug his hands back up Dean’s arms. 

Dean shivered as Castiel’s touch left goosebumps in its wake. He was surprised just how _good_ it felt—how it made him want to sink bonelessly into the bed and sleep for days and how it made him tense up in sweet anticipation.

Castiel splayed his fingers wide over Dean’s chest, and repeated the motion from before—this time rubbing his hands down Dean’s chest to just under his belly button and dragging his nails as his moved back up. Castiel made sure to avoid Dean’s nipples and groin, and Dean ached for a thumb on his nipple or a hand on his cock.

Dean followed Castiel’s hands with his eyes, down and he could see his cock hard and straining to reach for Castiel, but Castiel pointedly ignored it, not even bumping it accidentally with his body as his hands moved from Dean’s obliques to his hips.

Dean floated pleasantly as Castiel continued his exploration of Dean’s body. After he had run his hands over every inch of Dean’s front, Castiel turned Dean around to face the bed and started on his back.

It wasn’t until Dean felt the unmistakeable press of Castiel’s erection against his ass that he even knew that Castiel had taken off his clothes. Dean hadn’t seen it yet, but he could tell that his prince was _well-endowed_. 

Dean chuckled at his own double-entendre, though his laugh turned to a gasp as one of Castiel’s hands moved from Dean’s hip to circle the base of his cock. Castiel’s touch was feather-light and teasing and Dean longed for Castiel to tighten his grip. 

Castiel, however, must’ve had other plans in mind. He hooked his chin over Dean’s shoulder and watched his fingers dance up and down the length of Dean’s cock. Dean threw his head back and closed his eyes in frustration. He tried to thrust into Castiel’s hand, but even pushing himself into Castiel’s insubstantial hold did little to relieve the growing tension.

A sharp twist of his nipple sent a jolt of pleasure and pain shooting to his groin. He bucked involuntarily and Dean felt Castiel grin.

“What’s so funny?” Dean asked, a little more breathless than he’d planned.

“I didn’t expect it to be this way,” Castiel replied, “I didn’t expect you to be so …eager. So responsive.”

Unmistakeable heat burned across his cheeks as he racked his brain for some kind of response. Before he could think of one, Castiel got a hand under his balls and began rolling them in his hand. 

“Hnng,” Dean said instead and Castiel laughed again. Castiel repeated the motion, before tugging on Dean’s other nipple. Dean felt like Castiel was cataloguing all of his responses to specific touches, the way Castiel tested and retested reactions. Dean’s mind skipped to the maps and books in the other room and the journals and scrolls on a table in this one. Maybe he was filing this all away to add to his collection of knowledge.

Nails scratched painful lines into Dean’s abdomen, bringing Dean’s attention back to Castiel. 

“Sorry,” Castiel said and rubbed a soothing hand over the white marks on Dean’s abs.

Dean put his hand over Castiel’s. “It was just a little unexpected, that’s all,” he said, shaking his head. Castiel brought Dean’s hand up to his mouth and kissed his knuckles in apology. The action caught Dean off-guard, so tender and unexpected. 

Prince Castiel was a general in the King’s army, after all, and a shrewd tactician who’d, with only a handful of infantry, beaten back Raphael’s army at the Battle of The Garden. All other military men Dean’d known, whether they were mercenary, town militia, or King’s cavalry, had been rough lovers and their encounters had been brief. 

But Castiel was also this unkempt man who touched Dean with reverence and tenderness. Every kiss felt like a blessing, as Castiel’s lips moved from Dean’s hands to his arm up to his shoulder. He kissed up Dean’s throat to his ear, biting lightly on the lobe before releasing Dean completely and backing away.

Dean rocked unsteadily in his spot—he hadn’t realized just how much Castiel had been supporting him. His back felt too cool without the warmth of Castiel’s skin pressed against it.

“Lean forward,” Castiel said as he lightly pushed on Dean’s shoulder. Dean bent to rest his hands on the bed and Castiel ran a hand down his back to cup his ass. His mouth followed the path his hand had forged, leaving a cool, wet trail from Dean’s shoulder to the small of his back. Dean jolted in shock as he felt Castiel’s teeth sink into the meat of his ass. Castiel kissed the spot he’d just bitten as his long, thick fingers stroked along Dean’s perineum. 

The lingering pain from the bite mixed with the firm, delicious pressure just behind his balls was nearly too much sensation for Dean to handle. Castiel’s mouth moved from Dean’s ass to the inside of one thigh and Dean’s legs trembled despite his best efforts. His cock throbbed, aching for any kind of touch. Even the light, exploratory touches from before would have been preferable.

Castiel’s breath ghosted over Dean’s hole and Dean sucked in a breath.

“How… _thoroughly_ did they clean you before they brought you here?” Castiel asked and Dean was surprised by the nonchalance in his voice. If Dean had a man like this, bent over and ready for whatever he wanted, Dean’s voice wouldn’t be so steady.

Dean thought of the hour before he was admitted to Castiel’s chambers—the endless poking and prodding and examining followed by foul-smelling but sweet tasting elixirs and a quick bath that included vigorous scrubbing in various sensitive areas. 

Castiel leaned around Dean’s hip to look at him and Dean met his eyes. “ _Very_ thoroughly,” Dean replied, and almost as soon as Dean’d gotten out the last syllable, he felt the flat of Castiel’s tongue drag over his hole. 

It wasn’t at all what Dean’d been expecting. It didn’t feel like a lube coated finger or cock as it moved over his skin. He wasn’t quite sure how to describe it—except that it felt _good_ , like all of Castiel’s ministrations. 

“Cas,” Dean groaned as Castiel licked a stripe from his scrotum to his hole, “where did you learn all _this_?” Dean’d thought his years of experience had made him a giving and gifted lover, but Castiel on his first go definitely put Dean to shame.

Castiel replaced his tongue with one fat thumb and tugged absently on Dean’s rim as he answered. “Books.”

“Books?!” Where the fuck in the Goddess’ realm did Castiel find books on putting tongues in assholes? Because Dean would very much like to visit that place—he’d have to get the information after Castiel when they were done.

“Yes, books,” Castiel repeated, “how did you learn?” After asking his question, Castiel’s mouth resumed its earlier position, kissing and sucking along Dean’s perineum. The scruff of Castiel’s day-old beard scratched pleasantly on the inside of Dean’s thighs and between his cheeks,.

“ _Fuck!_ I didn’t really learn—oh yes do that again—” Dean panted as Castiel spread him wider and breached his hole with a pointed tongue, “I just _did_ it.”

“And was that successful?” Castiel asked and Dean wished Castiel would stop asking so many questions when his tongue should be otherwise occupied.

Castiel’s hands kneaded the globes of Dean’s ass, but his mouth stayed those horrible six inches away as Castiel waited for Dean’s response.

“It was _fine_ ,” Dean said, not really wanting to elaborate on his illicit fumbling with a farmer’s daughter in a village he passed through so quickly he can’t remember its name. 

“Just fine?” Castiel asked, tracing some shape on Dean’s thigh. Dean looked over his shoulder and could see Castiel’s brows furrowing.

“It took a few tries, okay?” Dean shrugged and remembered the miller’s daughter the next village over. He hadn’t fumbled as much as his first try, but he probably hadn’t _really_ gotten the hang of it until three or four times later. He wiggled his hips at Castiel, hoping to encourage the man to go back to their earlier activities, but Castiel’s frown just deepend.

“And am I just _fine_?”

“Goddess, Cas,” Dean said, running a hand through his hair in exasperation, “I’m dying here and you wanna have a conversation?”

One corner of Castiel’s mouth turned up in a sly grin as he asked. “You’re dying? So I’m not _just fine_?”

Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Does this help?” Castiel asked as his hand finally— _finally_ —wrapped around Dean’s cock. A moan ripped its way free of Dean’s throat and echoed around the spacious room. He took his hand back and Dean did, for just a moment, think he might die from the loss.

“Cas,” he whined, not caring how needy he sounded. Castiel didn’t seem the type to hold it against him.

Castiel rubbed soothing circles on Dean’s back as he got up and moved to pull a small bottle from a secret hiding spot in a hollowed out leg of his bed. Dean’s eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of the small insignia inked on the label—he’d only seen that mark in upscale brothels. Not that he’d ever gotten to use it; his visits were usually for business, collecting or passing on information, rather than pleasure.

Castiel poured out a tiny drop and spread it between his thumb and fingers with a considering _hmm_. He wiped it off on a blanket before turning his attention back to Dean.

“Lay on the bed,” Castiel commanded, and Dean was happy to obey. Castiel moved him around until he was happy with Dean’s new position—on his side, ass even with the edge of the bed. 

Castiel brought over the bottle and this time poured a liberal amount over his hand before spreading the lube between Dean’s thighs and along Dean’s perineum. Dean blushed as soon as he figured out Castiel’s intentions. Dean felt a little silly for his reaction; he’d had cocks and fingers (and now tongues) in his ass, for Goddess’ sake, but _this_ made him blush like a schoolboy. 

Castiel placed one strong hand on Dean’s hip and slid his long erection between Dean’s slick thighs. For the first time since they’d started, Castiel moaned and the sound sent shockwaves of renewed arousal through Dean’s body. 

Dean’s toes curled in pleasure as Castiel’s cockhead dragged from his balls to tease against his rim. Castiel moved slowly at first, but picked up the pace with each measured thrust. Once Castiel figured out his rhythm, he brought a lubed hand down to wrap around Dean’s cock again. 

Dean jerked at the unexpected feeling of Castiel’s hand, and after only a handful of strokes, he came with a surprised shout. His orgasm washed over him in languid waves, Castiel’s continued thrusting only seeming to prolong his pleasure.

In the haze of his orgasm, Dean vaguely registered Castiel’s breathing coming out more and more in unsteady grunts. He placed a hand over Castiel’s where it still clung to Dean’s hip and Castiel stilled, wide-eyed, as his own release came. 

Castiel slumped over, and with a little guidance, fell on the bed next to Dean. Dean wriggled until he could lay comfortably on his back while he watched Castiel come down from his first orgasm achieved with another person.

Dean grinned as Castiel labored through the simple tasks of breathing and keeping his eyes open. “Wow,” Castiel said and turned toward Dean.

Dean propped himself up on one elbow and looked down on Castiel. “Good, yeah?”

Castiel nodded, words seeming to fail him.

“You’re pretty good at this, Cas,” Dean said, “Remind me next time that you’ve earned the best damn blow job I’ve ever given.”

Castiel blinked. “Next time?”

Dean felt his face go hot and he stammered as he averted his eyes. “Oh, I didn’t mean— Of course this was a one-time …”

Castiel’s hand came up to cup Dean’s face and Dean stopped talking.

“I would love to have a next time, Dean,” Castiel said, stroking a thumb over Dean’s cheekbone, “Just leave me with the information about where you’re staying.” Dean sighed and leaned into Castiel’s touch. He’d have to tell Bobby not to freak out when letters with royal seals started showing up—or convince Castiel to be discrete. Or he could tell Castiel to send them to Rufus ...

“And before you go,” Castiel added with a glint in his eyes, interrupting Dean’s train of thought, “the room next to mine is unoccupied, but richly furnished. Just let the guards in the hall know I sent you.”

Dean gave him a side-eyed look and Castiel looked at him seriously. “I’m not telling you to make a habit, but as soon as you told me you weren’t Kevin, I knew why you were here.”

Dean paled. “And you’re not gonna turn me in?”

Castiel sighed and studied his hands laced over his chest. “There are many things I don’t approve of in my brother’s reign, but chief among them is the rampant poverty and strife created by his attention to the nobility.”

Dean balked at Castiel’s blunt words, but Castiel just looked at him evenly. “I don’t blame you for being born poor, as my brother would, and I don’t blame you for trying to make a living. But I wouldn’t recommend taking anything large or especially valuable if you want to see me again—I can’t get you out of the dungeon.”

Dean nodded and considered what Castiel told him—it was a fairly radical stance for any of the nobility, let alone a member of the royal family. Dean also thought of the chamber next to Castiel’s. It would probably have a few small gold pieces or a ceramic knick-knack he could unload easily for a gold piece or two. But he also had a few more jobs lined up in the next couple of days, and one would guarantee him a pretty hefty sum.

“Hmm,” Dean said in mock consideration, “maybe I’ll just stay here and wait for round two. After that, I’m pretty sure I’ll be so tired, I’ll just want to go home and pass out.”

Castiel smiled up at him and Dean’s stomach did a flip at the sight.

“Good,” Castiel said, surging up to kiss Dean, “there are a few more things from my books I’d like to try out.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks (as usual) to [messier51](http://messier51.tumblr.com) and [ceeainthereforthat](http://ceeainthereforthat.tumblr.com) for reading through this and making my prose better. :D


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